


Go Boldly

by RacAndCheese



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5sos Star Trek, Alternate Universe, Characters from TNG/DS9 may appear, M/M, My First Fanfic, Work In Progress, tng era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-08-06 15:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RacAndCheese/pseuds/RacAndCheese
Summary: On the USS Babylon, no one knows the next assignment, and no one knows what shenanigans may ensue.UPDATE: Very busy with holidays and whatnot! Should be updating again a week or two into the new year. Seasons greetings everyone!





	1. Chapter 1

Space… The final frontier. Perhaps they call it that because it’s the last place left to explore, or perhaps it’s because more people meet their untimely end in space than Starfleet would care to admit in all of their recruitment propaganda. Luke’s job is simple, don’t let them die. An impossible task to be sure, people die in space and the reality of that is inescapable. Why become a doctor then? 

Maybe Luke liked helping people. Maybe he was naive. Maybe he liked the constant reminder that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t save everyone, which is a pretty grim outlook, but such is the way of the universe.

A cold and calculated voice cuts through the air, and snaps Luke back to reality. “The deposition of Dr. Lucas Hemmings is now under way, the stardate is 43635.2. The purpose is to determine exactly what happened on stardate… 43510.7” 

There was a dismissive tone in his voice, and Luke could see by the way the Admiral was flicking through his padd, he was a little disorganized. Then again, perhaps he didn’t need to be organized. Perhaps he knew exactly what the outcome of all this would be, and the hearing was just pomp and circumstance. 

“Could you please confirm for the record that you are in fact Dr. Hemmings?” Luke shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He never liked to speak in front of crowds, although three Starfleet Admirals hardly constitutes a crowd. 

“Y-yes.” He fumbled over the word trying to find an appropriate pitch for his voice. The room wasn’t exactly large, but it seemed a little excessive for what they were using it for. There had to be room for at least ten or twelve people at this table, and there were only four, he on one side, the three Admirals on the other. All three men stared at him for a moment. A lamb to the slaughter as Michael would say. And now, three butchers were eyeing him up, two human, one Vulcan. 

“Alright Dr. Hemmings let me explain how this is going to work before we proceed. This is a deposition to determine the nature of some discrepancies in your official report to Starfleet.” Luke bit at the ring in his lip, a small reminder of the time he spent on Bajor before leaving for Starfleet Medical Academy. 

“All three of us will ask you questions and you will answer them. The hearing will last until all of our questions are satisfied.” They don’t want answers, they don’t actually care, Luke thought to himself. He hated the idea that at this very moment, he was not in control of his destiny. 

“Dependent on the answers you give, we as a collective will determine if you shall be subject to a court martial. Do you understand?” Luke pulled at the bottom of his uniform shirt to straighten it out, and sat up with a bit more poise, understanding that it was almost his time to speak. “Yes.”

Starfleet Headquarters is so sterile. Zero personality anywhere. Without skipping a beat the Vulcan lurches forward over the blinding white table in front of him, knife sharpened and ready to carve. “What was the nature of your relationship with Lieutenant Michael Clifford?” 

Luke smirked as he let out a gentle snort. It was a good question.

*****

It would be disingenuous to say Luke always knew he wanted to be a doctor. For the longest time he didn’t know what his life would become. His brothers didn’t have any such uncertainty during their teenage years. Luke’s family is one step short of nobility amongst outsiders to the Federation. 

They own and operate Hemmings Industrial Shipping ltd, the largest exporter of raw materials and ore in the Federation. Just because the Federation itself operates without currency or an economy, doesn’t mean the rest of this sector shares those values. Most of the family business is done with the Ferengi Alliance, who comprise somewhere in the neighborhood of forty percent of all of their transactions by volume.

Luke has two brothers, Jack and Ben, who both went on to become “brand ambassadors”, a cushy little title that their father had created. They essentially were just proxies for their father when he had more important things to do. 

They would wine and dine potential clients, generally just showing them a good time. They would take notes at meetings that their father couldn’t attend, and present him with the concerns of customers. They got to see the farthest reaches of the galaxy, and experience the most amazing and unique cultures. 

Luke was dying for experiences like that, but he wanted to make his own way. That was something he always had a chip on his shoulder about. Even in his earliest memories, he was the baby. His brothers never let him forget it. 

They would pinch his cheeks, and call him a momma’s boy. God forbid anyone else did though. He was their little plaything to torment, and they were very protective in that way, call it sibling rivalry. Luke wasn’t the only one with a chip on his shoulder. 

In response to their constant teasing and ridicule, Luke was was always quick to remind them that they were just jealous that he was mom’s favourite. That always seemed to hit close to home. Truth hurts.

It was precisely 0700 when the computer pipes up to inform Luke of the time, and that he should probably think about waking up. Little did the computer know, he was already more than half way through his morning routine. It was the same routine everyday, because if Luke is nothing else, he is an organized person. 

He established an efficient system years ago when he was in the Academy that helped him find his center, and prepare himself for whatever horrors may be thrown at him. Not that it happened very often, but being in the world of medicine is not for the faint of heart. It could be downright scary holding someone’s life in your hands, waking up everyday thinking that one mistake could cost someone their entire existence. 

He was anxious, well, more anxious than normal anyway. Anxiety followed Luke everywhere. Usually it was tempered by the fire in his belly to show everyone that he was perfectly capable of… whatever it was that he was trying to do at the time. Today however, anxiety seemed to be getting the upper hand. In fact, it was more than anxiousness, he was actually nervous. 

Everything was taking just a little bit longer than normal. The first hour or so after leaving the comfort of his bed was spent in front of the mirror making sure he looked presentable. The most important thing today was that he inspired confidence, because today was the day he was being transferred to his first assignment as Chief Medical Officer. 

Luke had just finished a six month residency on the Enterprise under Dr. Katherine Pulaski. A hectic time to be sure, considering she herself had just replaced the previous doctor. The flagship of the Federation was what most officers in Starfleet dream of, and if they were lucky enough to make it on to the duty roster, they would fight tooth and nail to make sure they stayed there. But not Luke. 

Luke just wanted an assignment to call his own. Somewhere where he felt like he could really make a difference. And if he was being honest with himself, he craved autonomy. He wanted to prove that he was a doctor capable of making decisions on his own, if to no one else but himself. He got along with the crew of the Enterprise well enough, but not well enough to give up being CMO on his own ship in order to stay. 

He got his wish by way of being transferred to the USS Babylon. None of the bridge staff on the Babylon had a reputation to speak of, whether that was a good thing or a bad thing was anyone’s guess. Not that Luke had been around long enough to meet that many people, or form any real conclusions about any of his Starfleet colleagues. 

He graduated from the Academy, bounced around for a year and a half doing medical internships on various star bases and ships, did his residency on the Enterprise, and now here he was. On a star base, waiting for his new assignment to pick him up and take him to the corners of the galaxy.

For a doctor, Luke was terrible at taking care of himself. When he was anxious, he didn’t eat. When he didn’t eat, he got crabby. As much as the idea of eating anything was making his stomach turn at this particular point and time, the goal was to start his tour on the Babylon bright eyed and bushy tailed. 

He gave himself one last look in the mirror and came to the conclusion that this is as good as it gets. With a gentle sigh, he makes his way out of the bathroom to find his uniform shirt, neatly pressed on top of the suitcase he packed last night. 

He regretted being so efficient, if he had put packing off until the last minute he would have an excuse not to go down to the mess hall and stomach whatever it is he decided to call breakfast. Well, at least the good news is, he’s got three hours until the Babylon docks. Plenty of time to move food around his plate and pretend to eat.

*****

“The time is 0700 hours.” The computer aboard the Babylon always sounds like she takes a sick pleasure in waking people up. She’s a sadistic bitch Michael thinks to himself as he pulls his pillow over his head. “The time is 0701 hours.” Michael kicks his blankets off in a tantrum, keeping his head over his pillow all the while. “Will you just fuck off!” 

He’s never been a morning person. Not for any reason other than his body tends to keep him awake at all hours of the evening. But three hours sleep does not a happy Michael make. He rolls onto his back and lets out a deep sigh. The ship seems cold this morning. The ship always seems cold. With as little enthusiasm as is required, Michael falls out of the bed and looks around on the floor for something to cover himself while he goes to the washroom to freshen up before his duty shift. He splashes some water on his face and calls it a job well done. 

Sauntering back out to the bedroom he scoops his uniform up off the cold tile, where it has lived since the end of his last shift, and gives it a quick once over to make sure it’s not completely disgusting. This yellow is such a fucking ugly colour, he thinks to himself as he throws it over his head. 

Michael is an engineer. Well, he is a tinkerer anyway, always has been. He took the same training as everyone else in Starfleet Academy, and if the situation called for it he had the technical capability to complete any task assigned to him. But Michael’s real skill lie in his ability to look at a piece of machinery and understand how it works through sheer power of logic and experience. 

He wasn’t the fastest mathematician, and his understanding of quantum mechanics wasn’t profound, it was adequate at best in fact. But if something needed to be fixed, Michael was the person who got called. That’s probably why everyone put up with him. He is an asshole, he is lazy, he is intimidating, and god forbid anyone except Calum ask him to do anything around the ship. 

Calum is the Babylon’s First Officer, and most people around the ship figured that Michael harbored some resentment because of that. They went to the academy together, friends the whole way through, but now Calum was a Commander and the First Officer aboard a ship, and Michael was a Lieutenant. On his way to becoming a Chief Engineer, but still not quite there. 

Everyone figured he would replace Lieutenant-Commander Hansen when his next transfer comes through, but everyone also figured Michael’s promotion would mostly be due to a lack of better options… or nepotism. Either way, Michael payed it no mind. He went in, did his job, and got out. 

It takes him a couple minutes to walk to main engineering from his quarters. The Babylon isn’t a massive ship, but the crew quarters are about as far from main engineering as possible. Something about limiting exposure to radiation. The Babylon is an Intrepid-Class Light Cruiser, with a crew compliment of 174. 

She was outfitted for efficiency, all of her weapons systems were designed to have as little drain on the power reserves as possible and the shield was easy to maintain. She has a ton of cargo space, which is helpful because it means she can double as a blockade runner, and get through just as many supplies as a dedicated cargo ship. 

Unfortunately something’s gotta give somewhere, and in the case of the Babylon; crew quarters were tight. With the exception of the Captain, First Officer, and CMO, everyone was two to a room. Except Michael. His last bunkmate transferred off the ship three weeks ago, and it has been absolute heaven. 

He could do whatever he wanted in his room, at any time without fear of waking up whoever else may be sleeping, although concern for his bunkmate was usually low on the priority list. Perhaps that’s why he requested the transfer. Or maybe it was because Michael slept naked and that made him uncomfortable. Either way it’s been a pretty good three weeks on the homefront.

As the doors to engineering open, he sees Calum and Hansen exchanging words on the other side of the room. Michael hesitates. He considers turning around and waiting for Calum to leave before he walks in. Instead he settles on a casual confidence as he enters. It doesn’t work.

“Lieutenant Clifford?” Calum calls out. Michael winces in defeat. Pivoting on one foot, he turns around. 

“Commander Hood.” Calum closes the distance between them so they can quietly have a conversation. 

“Mikey, you’re late… again.” Michael rolls his eyes. 

“Cal it’s like four minutes.” Calum folds his arms in front of himself. 

“I know, and personally I don’t care. I’ve got more important shit to deal with.” Calum gestures with his eyes at Hansen. “But he does, and he’s your boss. And I can’t help you here…” Michael rolls his eyes again. “because he’s not wrong - roll your eyes at me one more time Clifford and I swear to god I will put you in a headlock in front of this entire engineering staff.” 

Michael smirks. “No you won’t, you love me.” 

“Yeah well, don’t tell anyone or they’ll make me do a fucking psych evaluation.” There is a brief pause in their conversation. “Please try Mikey. Just a little bit?” 

Michael sighs. Calum has always played big brother to Michael. That’s just how their personalities mesh. 

Michael comes up with the most exasperated voice he can muster. “Fine. What’s the plan for today anyway?” 

“It’s an easy day. We’re stopping at Starbase 647 to pick up the new doctor, and the crews there are gunna give her a once over.” Calum says as he casually gestures around engineering. 

It’s always the biggest slap in the face when Starfleet sends in another crew to look at engineering, like an invasion of privacy. No matter how many times anyone assures him it’s just standard procedure, Michael always feels like someone doesn’t trust him to do his job. 

“Fine, I guess I’ll just go find a corner and play with myself.” Michael says to Calum as he turns to walk away. 

“Probably be the most productive thing you do all day.” Calum calls back. 

It probably would be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gunna try and keep updating on a weekly basis... Here's hoping I can keep it up :)

The mess hall was crowded, and rather than subject himself to small talk with whoever else might be sitting at the table with him, Luke decided to just grab an apple and mosey around the station for a bit. Hopefully that would help him clear his mind.

647 is a pretty big station, it sits on the border of three sectors, and serves as a hub of sorts. Ironically enough, even though Starfleet took responsibility for its construction, they use it as little more than a personnel transfer hot spot. It was widely known as the Starbase that never sleeps, because at any given time the market was bustling with some kind of action. The tradeposts, the bars, the even-less-reputable bars, they all had something to offer to the clientele which were coming from god knows where.

Out of the corner of his eye in a dark and secluded section of the bazaar, Luke catches sight of a dimly lit neon sign, it read ‘Dreymor’s’. Since he joined Starfleet he couldn't remember the last time he set foot in an establishment that wasn't operated by the Federation. It looked pretty dingy, at least on the outside. At the very least it should serve as a place to escape the density of the main foyer, he thinks to himself. He felt like he was breathing other people’s breath.

The interior left as much to be desired as the facade, plus it had a smell Luke couldn’t quite place his finger on, so there was that. The place was as dead as he expected, and yet somehow still loud. Not as loud as outside mind you, but loud enough that the volume level seemed out of place.

Luke found himself a seat at the bar. There was one other patron at the opposite end, he seemed asleep. Possibly dead, and Luke wondered to himself if his hippocratic oath applies here. 

“No outside food!” The voice is so loud and gruff, Luke nearly falls from his stool. Staring at him from the other side of the bar is a Gorn. “P-pardon?” He’s never seen a Gorn before, and the stories of their immense size do not do justice to their intimidating stature. The Gorn gestures at Luke’s hand and he realizes he’s still holding his apple from earlier.

“Oh, I completely forgot I even had this.” Luke let’s his sentence trail off toward the end, completely enamoured by the massive life form in front of him.

The Gorn picks up a rag, polishing the inside of the nearest glass. “That’s just as well… No outside food.” After a moment of Luke staring in awe, the Gorn lets out an exasperated sigh. “Look human, I get that you don’t usually get to see my kind, but I’m positive that in almost every culture, staring is rude.”

Luke startles with the realization that the Gorn was even speaking to him. “Sorry, yeah just-- Sorry.” He places the apple aside and stares at the counter, concerned that the second warning he gets for prolonged eye contact won’t be quite as cordial.

The Gorn places the glass neatly on the counter to complete a row, and throws the rag over his shoulder. “So Mr…” He trails off, clearly expecting Luke to fill in the blank.

“Luke.”

“Right, Mr. Luke. I’m Draymor. Clearly you’ve never been here before.”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“Well, here at Draymor’s we aim to please. First one’s on the house.” Draymor reaches under the bar and pulls out a bottle, curved with a triangular base, and a dark brown tint. Luke only hopes that the drink itself has a slightly more appealing colour. “That’s what keeps ‘em coming back. Top notch customer service.”

Draymor pours the liquid into a small glass, no bigger than two or three ounces. It moves with the viscosity of mucus, and after some consideration Luke decides that he would rather brown than the awful glossy grey that the drink shows itself to be.

He tries not to let the hesitation show in his eyes as he picks up the glass and prepares to subject himself to what he imagines will be one of the most foul things he’s ever put in his mouth.

“Cheers.” Luke takes the contents into his mouth, and immediately tears come to his eyes. Draymor lets out a light chuckle as Luke tries to will his body to swallow the goo.

“So Mr. Luke, what else brings you in to my humble establishment? You looking to gamble, or fuck?” The question is so abrasive, Luke spits the drink out all over the bar, narrowly missing the Gorn. Surely Luke had heard him wrong.

“Come again?” Luke manages to get out between coughs and catching his breath.

“Well, there are plenty of other places around here to drink. Most people who come through my doors are looking to indulge in… other vices.” What Luke can only surmise is a smile spreads across Draymor’s face.

“Unless of course you’re looking to fight… Might mess up your pretty little face though.” Draymor adds.

Luke gulps hard as he realizes he has entered what must be the seediest dive bar in the entire quadrant. “Umm… Perhaps later?”

Luke’s comm badge gives off two sharp blasts, saving him from the awkward inquiry of exactly what services were being offered to him. “Dr. Hemmings, please report to Captain Gallagher’s office.”

Luke stands up and offers a polite nod to his new acquaintance as he taps his badge. “On my way.” The words couldn’t leave his lips fast enough.

“Thanks… uh. Yeah, thanks for the drink.” He offers as he slowly inches his way to the door, still not certain of his own safety in a place like Draymor’s.

“Yeah, anytime kid.”

Hopefully not anytime soon.

*****

“Lieutenant Clifford, what is your location?”

Michael recognized that voice. That was Captain Irwin. He sighs and looks at the identifying marks on the bulkhead above him. He gives his comm badge a quick tap.

“Umm-- Jefferies tube… J17”

“Please report to my ready room at your convenience.”

“Aye sir.”

Michael puts his decoupler down and pulls himself out of the Jefferies tube. Thankfully he wasn’t too deep, but the fact that he was being pulled away from whatever he was doing still irked him. Even if it was just busy work.

He winds his way through the corridors, and makes it onto the bridge. Calum was sitting in the Captain’s chair. He looks over his shoulder toward the turbolift as Michael enters and gives him a knowing smile. In response, Michael gives him a quick wink as he passes by on his way to the Captain’s ready room.

As he enters he sees Captain Irwin sitting on a small sofa, padd in his hand. “Lieutenant Clifford, please come in.”

Michael takes a couple steps in to let the door close behind him. The room is adorned with a slew of trinkets, all of which Michael assumed held some personal value. Michael always imagined the Captain was the sentimental type.

“Captain.” Michael says as he stands at attention, hands behind his back. There are only a few people on this ship that are worth the effort it takes to properly stand at attention, and Captain Irwin was one of them.

“Mr. Clifford, I’ve been receiving some disturbing reports…”

Oh great, Michael thinks to himself.

“You’re tardy for your duty shifts, you’re difficult to work with, you’re apathetic…”

“Sir, if I could just--”

“Lieutenant, did I say I was finished?”

Those words alone were enough to stop Michael dead in his tracks, and from this point forward Michael decides the best place for him to look is going to be at the floor. It’s tough to imagine anyone in the Federation has a more commanding presence than Captain Ashton Irwin. Even as he sits with one leg crossed over the other, he displays an unparalleled confidence. It doesn’t hurt that he’s easy to look at either. Michael always had a thing for blondes. The subject of many of Calum’s teasing sessions.

“And yet in spite of everything I’ve just said, Commander Hood has vouched for you.” The Captain keeps his posture casual as he chews lightly at the inside of his cheek, stuck deep in his thoughts. He holds up the padd and wiggles it gently.

“These are Lieutenant-Commander Hansen’s transfer orders. That effectively leaves me without a chief engineer.” Michael looks up to meet the gaze of his Captain, with the sudden realization of where this conversation is going.

“I run a tight ship Mr. Clifford. Calum assures me you’re up to the task. You’re probably one of the most technically gifted minds I’ve ever met, if your service record is any indication. If Calum has faith, so do I. Don’t make me out to be a fool.”

Michael stares, eyes bright with a combination of gratitude and excitement, but not really sure of what to say.

“I’m finished Mr. Clifford.” Ashton says as a smile creeps up the corner of his mouth

Michael lets go a big toothy smiles as he chuckles. “Thank you sir.”

“Congratulations. You’re going to be on a three month probationary period, and if all goes well, I’ll submit the paperwork to Starfleet, promoting you to Lieutenant-Commander.” Ashton gives Michael a firm handshake. A decision he immediately regrets once he realizes Michael’s hands are still covered in grease.

Michael steps back out to the bridge and Calum is staring at him so hard, he’s surprised he didn’t burn a hole right through the door.

Calum sticks his tongue in and out of his cheek a couple times and wiggles his eyebrows, just one more in a long list of insinuations involving Michael and the Captain.

“Whatever, just because you blew him to get promoted doesn’t mean I did.”

Everyone looks up from their workstations and Michael turns a little pink realizing Calum was probably a good twenty feet from him, and that little comment was one best reserved for a whispering voice. God damn Calum, Michael could see that it was taking all of his power not to burst into laughter.

“As you were Mr. Clifford.” Calum is physically biting his tongue to maintain his professional composure.

Everyone puts their heads back down and continues whatever it was that they were doing. Michael sticks his tongue out at Calum as he makes his way to the turbo lift. He would find a way to get him back for that, he always did.

On the way back to engineering, Michael couldn’t help but wonder why this promotion even meant anything to him. He settles on the reasoning that getting some acknowledgement is nice. Most people write him off from the moment they meet him. Maybe that’s because he is tough to get along with, but whatever, most people are stupid and he doesn’t care to talk to them anyway. He’s got Calum’s confidence, and now apparently Captain Irwin’s, and that was good enough for him.


	3. Chapter 3

It was about 0955 hours when Luke got his first look at the Babylon. He knew the time because he had been checking every minute or two as he paced the docking bay. It turned out Captain Gallagher didn’t really need him for anything important. Last minute logistical stuff.

The Babylon was gorgeous. She seemed to have curves in all the right places, and a sleek design which reminded Luke of a tear. Engineering crews began to scuffle around him, preparing to board her and make sure all the systems were ship shape. It wasn’t until he was bumped about three times that Luke realized he was probably standing in the most inconvenient location he possibly could.

He situated himself at the side of the bay as the ship docked, and stood on his tiptoes to get a glance at the crew members leaving the ship. There was nothing really spectacular about them, although Luke didn’t expect there to be. Luke wasn’t really sure what to expect in fact.

The crowd in front of the entrance had died down a bit, so Luke grabbed his bag off the floor and made his way to the threshold. As he stepped through he faced his first dilemma, and he was determined not to let his first decision on this ship be incorrect. So, left or right? He had spent some time last night going over the design records of the Babylon so he wouldn’t be completely lost when he boarded, but it didn’t seem to be helping. He opted for left.

He didn’t have a particular destination in mind. His orders were to report to ‘Commander Hood’, who he assumed would be on the bridge. Still, a little stroll through the ship wouldn’t hurt anyone, and it would give him a chance to take it all in. This was his home, at least for now. A significant milestone in his career, Luke felt a sense of pride inside him and he couldn’t wipe the silly grin from his face.

He stopped to inspect one of the panels on the wall. It has a shine to it which catches Luke by surprise. He expected a hard working ship like the Babylon to have a bit more wear. The Enterprise always looked pristine, but it was the flagship. It was the ship that was sent when dignitaries needed transport, or Admirals were looking to host ambassadors. But the Babylon’s purposes were far more practical. It needed to be fast and efficient.

Luke jumps out of his skin, and makes a noise he’s not sure he’s ever made before as a hand comes crashing down on his right shoulder.

“Everything up to your standards?”

Luke turns to find a friendly face staring back at him. Three pips on his collar, he must be the Commander. Of course he was, why wouldn’t Luke’s first reaction be squealing like a girl in front of his commanding officer. He was a bit shorter than Luke, but broader. His skin bore a tan complexion and his smile was all the brighter because of it. Before Luke could embarrass himself with an answer, the Commander started again.

“You must be Dr. Hemmings.”

“Yeah, Luke.” Luke offers a smile as he awkwardly tries to shuffle his bag over his shoulder and extend a hand.

“Your reputation precedes you?”

“Really?” Luke didn’t know he had one.

“No, not really. Hadn’t heard of you till yesterday, but I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Luke cringes internally as he realizes ‘of course you don’t have a reputation you idiot’.

“I’m Commander Hood. As long as it’s just you and me though, I prefer Calum.”

“Right, yeah, Luke works for me too.” Luke says as he struggles with the bag on his shoulder.

“Do you need a hand with that?” Luke wants to crawl in a hole. This is not going to plan at all, so much for dignity and poise.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

Calum lets out a little laugh. “You want me to show you around before we go see the captain?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

At least Calum seemed nice. It’s always nice to work with lighthearted people. Commander Riker was the same way, Captain Picard however; polar opposite. Luke had decided by the end of his first week on the Enterprise that there was no entity which existed in fact or fiction as intimidating as Captain Picard. At least, that’s what he’d hoped.

Luke and Calum wound their way through the corridors, with the Commander pointing out everything of interest along the way. They came to what Luke assumed was the mess hall, because it obviously was.

“Now, I know on the Enterprise they’ve got all top of the line stuff, with full service replicators in the rooms.”

“Yeah, it was a pretty easy ride that’s for sure.”

“Well, we don’t. You want something to eat, you come here.”

There was no denying that life on the Babylon was going to be a bit of a culture shock compared to the luxuries he enjoyed on the Enterprise, but he still wasn’t regretting his decision to leave. Not yet anyway.

Luke stared into the mess hall, trying to get a good look at what everyone was eating. Hopefully the menu here was at least half decent. He was starting to regret not eating breakfast this morning.

“You want something to eat?”

“I come here.” Luke responds like a robot, and Calum laughs.

“No it was a question. You wanna grab a bite?”

Luke turns about thirty different shades of pink in embarrassment, as he tends to do.

“Oh. Uh, yeah I could eat.”

After a decently large meal, and a post meal coffee which included a lot of ‘getting to know you’ talk, Luke and Calum found themselves in the living quarters.

“Computer, what is the time?” Calum booms out to no one in particular.

The computer chimes back informing them that the time was precisely 1233 hours.

“Did you want to drop your bag off before we go see the Captain? He should be ready for you now.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea.” Luke replies, lest he have another unfortunate awkward handshake situation with the Captain.

They turn one final corner and step up to the door at the end of the hall on the right.

“Oh, just so you know, you me and the Captain are the only ones on the ship with private quarters, but your sonic shower is all messed up. Should be ready by tomorrow but you’re gunna be bunking in here tonight.”

“Oh yeah, sure, that’s no problem.”

A couple quick taps on the panel and the door opens.

“JESUS CHRIST!”

Luke looks in, and his face drops.

*****

Michael hears someone calling his name from the opposite end of the Jefferies tube.

“If you guys keep bothering me to crawl in and out of this fucking tube, I’m never going to get anything done!”

“Hansen said congratulations! You can take the rest of the day if you want!”

Michael didn’t need to be told twice. He thinks about thanking the mysterious stranger, and then thinks better of it. He has a reputation to uphold after all. He pulls himself out, and dusts himself off, not that it helps. Grease doesn’t dust off. He gathers his things and brings them to a little locker near the main doors to engineering. Thankfully they didn’t make him lug all this stuff back to his room and store it in there. As Michael exits he gives Hansen a nod, a gesture which is returned.

He makes it back to his room without incident, despite a couple yellow shirts giving him cursory smiles as they pass in the corridor. Word travels fast on a ship this size, and it never hurts to cozy up to to the new boss. How little they knew, Michael wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

Michael has had three separate psychological evaluations since joining Starfleet, which is two more than standard. Once at the academy during his first year, which is something everyone goes through, once shortly after graduating when he instigated a fight at a cantina just off the cadet barracks, and once at the request of Captain Irwin when he first arrived on the Babylon.

According to the Captain, Michael didn’t ‘play nice with others’. All three evaluations came back the same; there is nothing psychologically wrong with Michael. Nothing that would warrant further action or medication anyway. He’s just a bit of a cock. Michael’s spent more than a few hours wondering why he is the way he is, usually after a drunken night with Calum, where he couldn’t find some local, or new recruit to take home. He’s resigned himself to the fact that he’s a product of his upbringing.

The bottom line is, Michael has always been afraid to trust. If he doesn’t trust anyone, no one can hurt him has always been his rationale. Starfleet was fully aware of his past, and when they decided to let him into the academy, and they knew that those kinds of scars are the ones you never fully recover from.

As if it were part of a well choreographed dance routine, Michael strips off his shirt as the door to his quarters close. The best part of having a room to himself was easily the fact that he could be naked one hundred percent of the time. His pants slide off, and a shiver runs its way through his extremities, because this ship was apparently designed to keep his balls permanently tucked inside his body for warmth and protection.

“Computer, can you turn up the fucking heat!”

The computer chimes a couple times, and complies. Michael makes his way into the washroom, and hits the knob on the shower before walking over to the mirror. He had specially modified a replicator to produce only water and installed it in place of the sonic shower. He always preferred the heat and warmth of water to the sound waves produced by the sonic shower.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he rubs his hand across the stubble on his face. It was getting pretty long. Not only that, but the faded pink colour of his hair was probably a little more faded than he would have liked. He would get around to it. Eventually.

When Michael hops in the shower, he has to recoil at the heat for a moment, before allowing it to wash over him. He took his showers hotter than any sane human would enjoy, and heard about it on more than one occasion from whoever the evening’s conquest may have been.

When he gets out, he is pleasantly surprised to find that the temperature of the main room had become more tolerable. He picks up a towel off the floor with his foot, and dries himself off in what has to be the most half-assed manner possible, even by his standards. He decides that the floor was probably the best place for the towel, and returns it there with all of half a seconds forethought.

He flops himself down on the small couch. In front of him sat a small personal computer on a shin high coffee table. He exhales as he sits up, tapping the computer a few times. A small notification in the top right corner informs him that he has a message. No video, just text. It was from Calum. ‘Congrats Mikey. I took the early bridge shift this morning so I should be done around 1330. Let’s grab a drink.’

“Computer time?”

“The time is 1227 hours.”

Michael sinks back into the couch, trying to figure out how he was going to kill an hour. He already knew, but he figured if there was some greater power watching, he should at least pretend to think of something more productive.

As he lounged, he let himself become lost in thought. His mind wandered everywhere. He thought of how things might change once he takes over engineering. He thought of what he might want to drink tonight. He thought about who else might be getting a little more than reasonably inebriated this evening, and who he might be able to convince to come home with him.

By this point he’s been playing with himself on the couch for a good three or four minutes, lazilly, like everything else, but enough to get the blood flowing nonetheless. He figures it’s probably time to commit, and takes a firm grasp of himself. Michael always found it odd that sexual tension between two people can fade away and the spark can die, yet somehow; masturbating never seemed boring. Event though he essentially did the same thing every time, it never got old.

The plan was simple; slow and steady until he was about as hard as duranium, and then go hard. He was probably about there. His dick felt warm to the touch and was throbbing. He gave it a hard squeeze and started hammering away. Each stroke against his length made his breathing more erratic. He bit at his lip as he tried to breathe through his nose, and made little noises as he struggled to maintain some form of composure.

At this point, he had it down to a science, and he knew it wouldn’t take long. Precum began to spill onto his hand, turning the event into a slippery and yet somehow sticky ordeal. He could feel the ecstasy well in the pit of his stomach, as he brought his left hand up to rub across his chest. He was already so close.

And that’s when it happened.

“JESUS CHRIST!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins :)


	4. Chapter 4

Shock, horror, embarrassment. It’s tough to put into words exactly which emotions flood over Michael as he sat there dick in hand. For a brief instant he wonders if it would be worse had he actually bust all over himself, a thought which he dismisses quickly because he was being put through enough torture as is. In reality, he had done nothing wrong, and he knew it. This was a blatant invasion of his privacy, and that’s the bottom line.

It didn’t seem to matter how hard he reassured himself of that fact, as he scrambled for the nearest throw pillow to cover himself. The actual bottom line is, Calum and some fucking blonde bimbo had just walked in on him molesting himself. And that’s when it dawns on Michael, he has no idea who that is. Clearly no one he’s seen around the ship before. He would definitely remember him.

Six foot easy, thin, blue eyes, blonde, looked a bit dense. All boxes on Michael’s check list, and if this guy had been on the ship before, Michael would have sniffed him out in a heartbeat.

The whole exchange probably lasted about four seconds, before Calum hastily reached up and essentially punched the access panel, making the door close. Michael sits stunned, and doesn’t really move until he hears the computer chime a couple times informing him there is someone at the door.

“Mike? It’s Cal. You busy?”

How could he be so smug? Calum was always good at being funny and clever, and admittedly, from the outside looking in this was objectively funny. It’s tough to say who rubbed off on who more during their years of friendship, but their dry sense of humor is something that has developed with equal parts Michael and Calum.

Michael throws the pillow across the room and peels himself off the couch, accompanied by the distinct sound of sweaty flesh peeling off fake leather. He kicks around at the piles of laundry on the floor, looking for anything to slip on or wrap around himself. He settles on a loose fitting, low sitting, grey pair of pajama pants because when it came to the art of getting someone into bed, Michael was always thinking ahead.

He saunters over to the door and opens it. Using his forearm to lean against the door frame he runs a hand through his hair.

“Can I help you?” He spits.

He was clearly talking to Calum, but his focus never left Calum’s companion. He must have looked him up and down three or four times, which even by Michael’s standards was a bit conspicuous.

“Jeez, you’re a little sweaty, were ya working out?” Calum offers, alongside his infamous shit eating grin.

Michael shoots him such daggers that any less a man would have turned to stone where they stood. Not Calum though. Calum knew that he could do no wrong when it came to Michael, not really anyway. Michael hated that.

“Oh, ya know… Just my daily routine.”

“I believe it. This is Dr. Hemmings…”

Of course he is. One thing Michael had promised himself a long time ago was that when it came to relations with other members of Starfleet, he would never get involved with anyone above his rank. There is a long story behind why, and he really doesn’t like to relive it. Most doctors carry the rank of commander, and judging by the three pips on Hemming’s collar, this case was no exception. A damn shame.

“... he just hopped on at 647. He needs a place to bunk for the night while we get his quarters sorted out. Do you mind?”

Michael is caught off guard by the question. So many things fly through his mind he feels like he might fall over. He’s been accustomed to being alone for the last little bit and giving that up is not really something he would like. Combined with the fact that Dr. Sexy over here was a solid eleven out of ten, and Michael would probably have to fight every urge in his body telling him to bend the good doctor over the nearest surface.

Fuck. He had to think of an excuse quick.

“I… Well, I… Umm. I-”

“Perfect, thanks Mike, knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

God Michael wanted to punch him right in the stupid smile. There was silence for a moment, and it was the doctor who decided to break it.

“Is there somewhere I can put my bag?” He asks coyly and drawn out. Clearly emphasizing the fact that he wasn’t sure it was his turn to speak.

Before Michael can say anything, Calum interjects.

“Actually, we’re running a little late for the meeting, so Michael will handle that.”

Calum removes the bag from the blondes shoulder and tosses it into Michael’s chest, catching him off guard to the point where he almost drops it.

“Thanks Mikey, you’re the best.” Calum calls as he walks away, gently escorting the doctor.

Standing in his own doorway dumbfounded, Michael can’t even muster the energy to process everything that’s happened to him in the last three minutes. He closes the door and finds some precious unoccupied floorspace for the doctors bag. 

He flops himself back down on the couch and after a few moments, decides that figuring out what he was going to do next could want until after he finished what he started. Surely the doctor would agree that is the proper course of action, it’s a health concern.

*****

Luke and Calum spend what Luke estimates to be just short of a thousand years in the turbo lift before either of them speaks. Thankfully it’s Calum who breaks the silence, because Luke would have stood there until the end of time and never made another sound.

“Sorry about that. I hope it wasn’t too awkward.” Calum offers as he stares at the floor.

“Oh don’t worry about it.” Luke says. After all, it was only the single most awkward professional interaction in recorded human history.

“You sure? Cause he does that like… All the time. I could find you another room.” Calum deadpans.

Luke looks at him for a moment and stammers before Calum lets a smile spread across his face, and Luke realizes he was joking. At least, he hopes he was.

“Michael is a friend. I knew I could drop you in his lap at a moments notice and it wouldn’t be a problem. Plus it’s only for a day, two tops. So as long as you’re not bothered…”

“Oh God no, it’s totally… I mean. Yeah it’s a little awkward, but whatever. I’m a doctor right?” It was Luke’s turn to joke, and Calum laughs in turn.

They step out onto the bridge and Luke takes it in for a moment. Everything was so boxy. It definitely lacked the sleek sophistication which was present in the Enterprise’s design. The Captain’s ready room was off to his right side, and Luke follows Calum down a couple steps which partition the bridge and through the door.

The ready room is surprisingly large. On his left are two steps leading up to a lounge area with a sizable coffee table, a reclining chair, and a large couch positioned under the entire length of a large bay window looking out into space. The whole area was separated by a glass divider. Directly in front of him was the Captain’s desk, complete with a computer, and a couple of chairs.

The Captain stood behind his desk, fiddling with a panel on the wall.

“Captain, may I introduce Dr. Lucas Hemmings?”

The Captain pivots on one foot to face the men. Luke bites at his lips ring gently, an old nervous tick he’s never quite been able to shake.

“Ah. Dr. Hemmings, I’m Captain Ashton Irwin.”

The Captain reaches a hand over the desk, and Luke closes the distance across the room to take it. Thankfully, the Captain seemed to have a firm shake, because Luke’s was always flimsy at best.

“Captain. Luke is fine.” Luke states with a gentle smile. He never really liked to pull rank or title as long as people gave him respect. Most other medical professionals Luke has worked with couldn’t get enough of being called ‘doctor’, but Luke always thought ‘Dr. Hemmings’ sounded kind of pretentious, and never actually made anyone call him that unless he thought they were being assholes.

“Alright, Luke. So…”

Ashton takes a seat behind his desk and gestures for Luke to do the same.

“...Kate tells me you’re pretty good.”

Luke takes a seat and raises an eyebrow.

“Kate?” He asks.

“Pulaski?” The Captain returns.

“Oh, I’ve never heard anyone call her Kate.” Luke offers with a polite chuckle.

“Yeah, she’s an old friend. Well, an old friend of my mom anyway. But, yeah. I’ve reviewed your file, I see no problems or concerns. You have my full confidence moving forward.”

“Well thank you sir, I appreciate that.” Luke loved getting compliments, but hated that he didn’t know how to take them properly.

“Any questions for me or Commander Hood?”

Luke thinks for a moment.

“Umm, yeah, how is the senior staff organized?” Luke asks, mainly curious of his influence on the ship outside the sphere of medicine.

“Well, normally it’s Captain, First Officer, Councillor, Doctor, Security Chief, and Chief Engineer.” Ashton says as he counts the roles on his fingers.

“But, we don’t have a Councillor, and Calum handles security and tactics. So that just leaves you, me, Commander Hood, and Mr. Clifford.”

“Fair enough.” Luke nods.

“Excellent. Well then, if there is nothing further we can get to the matter at hand.”

Luke tilts his head, and then realizing he probably looks like a dog, decides to straighten it out. Thankfully, the Captain didn’t seem to notice, as he had already begun tapping at his computer.

“There is a new mining settlement on… Tau Ceti IV. Federation trade laws state that we don’t do business with any operation whose work conditions are not up to code, so we’re on our way to go make sure everything is up to snuff.”

Luke smiles and looks down into his lap.

“I think one of my brothers is heading that operation.”

“Yes, Jack I think.”

“Jeez, I haven’t seen Jack in… Almost two years.”

“Well, feel free to find some violations in their medical facilities which would warrant our staying an extra day or two. The schedule is pretty free right now.” Ashton offers with a smile, and Luke laughs.

“I’ll start making preparations…”

The Captain interrupts.

“Relax, we’re still three days out. Take the day, get your bearings.”

“Thank you Captain.” Luke says with gratitude. It has been a trying day after all, what with the excitement of a new ship, and a naked fiasco in his quarters.

“Yeah, no problem. You’re dismissed, but come find me at 1900 hours, we’ll have dinner.”

Luke nods and stands up, making a quick exit and passing Calum on the way. He had been quiet this whole time, and Luke honestly forgot he was there.

After Luke had made his way out, Calum finally spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell him we’re going to shut it down. We already know that Tau Ceti IV is full of violations.” Calum asks.

“I want to see where his loyalties lie.” Ashton offers, not looking up from his computer.

Calum slaps the back of the chair in front of him a couple times. “I’ll be on the bridge.”

“Mhmm.”

Calum exits onto the bridge, and takes a seat in the Captain’s chair.

“Ensign, set course for Tau Ceti IV, warp six.”

As the stars blur in his vision on the view screen, Calum hopes that the Doctor passes the Captain’s little test. It actually wasn’t so little, it’s tough to ask someone to turn on their family. In fact, it’s almost unfair, like a trap. But the Captain had a file on Hemmings Industrial which would suggest there is a systematic and conscious effort to deceive the Federation and put their workers in harm’s way. Either Luke knows about it, or he doesn’t, and at this point it’s irrelevant. At the very least, the decision regarding Tau Ceti has been made. If Luke loses the Captain’s trust here, he’ll never get it back.


	5. Chapter 5

Luke decided that he would in fact ‘take the day’, because who was he to argue with the Captain? He spent the better part of the afternoon in sick bay, getting to know the other medical staff and becoming comfortable with his surroundings in general. He actually had a sizeable team under his command considering the crew compliment; four nurses, and six med-techs. A ship like the Babylon comes across all sorts of situations, and so luck favours the prepared. Better to have more hands than you need.

It was getting into the early evening when Luke decided that it had been a trying enough day as is. After tapping a few buttons on his computer to put it to sleep, and giving a quick smile and nod to the duty nurse, he made a quick escape.

Luke supposes he couldn’t be too disappointed with how his first day has gone overall. After all, Calum seemed nice, actually more than nice. Calum seemed to be the kind of person who can immediately put you at ease, which is impressive considering they had only just met that day. The Captain seemed decent enough too. Sure, he gave off that ‘captain-y’ vibe, but the ones who don’t are the ones who end up not being Captains for very long.

And then of course there was the unfortunate incident this afternoon. Luke had determined that ‘unfortunate incident’ was better than calling it the ‘accidental dick sighting’. Even though the whole ordeal lasted only a moment, it was enough to make Luke blush for what was probably the third or fourth time that day. Thankfully, the attention wasn’t on him in that particular moment.

Luke hoped with all sincerity that it wouldn’t be too awkward moving forward. There’s nothing worse than having to room with someone you don’t get along with, even if it is only for a couple days. Not to mention that this Michael was also apparently a personal friend of Calum’s, so Luke figures it would be in his best interest to make another friend.

As he arrives at the door to his assigned quarters, Luke hopes that Michael is actually talkative, because he’s never been good at leading a conversation. If Michael is also the quiet type, than this was surely going to be an unenjoyable experience.

Luke also wonders what exactly happened in his life to cause him to be so socially inept. He spent a good three minutes debating whether he should press the access panel and notify his new bunkmate of his arrival, or just walk in. Just walking in had proved disastrous in the past, but surely there was no way he would be at it again right? Then again, Luke has been guilty of giving himself more than one tug in a day, albeit not since he was a teenager. Still, better to err on the side of caution.

Luke stood in the corridor like a fool for about five minutes pressing that button two more times before he mustered up enough courage to open the door and poke his head in.

“Hello?” Luke says as timidly as a mouse. Somehow the silence that responded had more gravitas than his greeting. He takes a couple steps in and the door closes behind him.

“Michael?” Luke called, immediately wondering if he and his roommate were on a first name basis or not.

He surmises that Michael must be out, because the odds of him being this good at hide and seek were slim, especially in a room this small. In his survey of the room, Luke realizes the mess he is surrounded with. It wasn’t filthy, there wasn’t rotting food around or anything like that, but it was cluttered enough to give him a small panic attack. Clothes lined the floor, and every surface seemed to have some kind of gizmo or engineering related do-dad. There was a must in the air as well, it smelt like dirty laundry mixed with grease and coolant fluid.

At least Luke had figured out that Michael worked in engineering in some capacity, or he hoped anyway. It would be unlikely that a security officer kept their quarters in such a state, they tend to be the orderly type.

Unfortunately for Luke he knew nothing about engineering and so that probably wouldn’t be much of a talking point. There was no use in fretting about what they were going to talk about now, Michael wasn’t even home. Better to cross that bridge when he gets to it, Luke thinks.

He grabs his bag and climbs up into the top bunk, a decision which makes him almost wince as he takes note of the smell of the bedding. He doesn’t want to even think about the last time they were washed, and can’t imagine what Michael’s be must be like.

It isn’t until he actually lays his head on a pillow that Luke realizes just how much the day has taken out of him. He grabs a padd out of his bag, and begins a review of the various medical reports which had been submitted to him by his staff. He knew this wouldn’t last long, he could already feel his eyelids getting heavy.

*****

As Michael makes his way through the corridors toward Calum’s quarters, he still hasn’t worked out exactly how he was going to get back at him for all of his antics this afternoon. The only thing he knew for sure was that it would have to be as clever as it was embarrassing. Embarrassing someone is easy, but doing it with guile and class; that could be a challenge. 

When he gets to the door, Michael touches the access panel, and it gives off two sharp blasts before he hears Calum on the other side.

“Yeah?” Is all Michael hears, but he takes that as invitation enough. Calum’s room is much bigger than Michael’s. Benefits of being first officer. Calum would also be the first to point out that it’s also ten times cleaner, to which Michael would respond that it only looks that way because there is more space.

“Notice how I knock before I come in?” Michael spits.

“Oh, come on! You can’t put that on me! What kind of sensible person is rubbing their dick at twelve-thirty in the afternoon?” Calum retorts.

Michael didn’t really have a good answer for that. He’s always had a pretty active sex drive, and just assumed that everyone else was the same way. You have some free time, you play with yourself, what better way could you be spending it? Still, the grin on Calum’s face showed that reliving the experience was making him well up with laughter all over again.

“A person who hasn’t got laid in like three months I guess.” Michael says and immediately regrets it, as he sees Calum’s eyes go wide.

“Wow, a moment to laugh at you for that please?” Calum snickers.

“Fuck off, at least I don’t spend my time in the holodeck with imaginary whores.” Michael comes back with as he flops down on the small sofa.

“Umm ouch. And here I thought you were here to thank me.” Calum says, feigning genuine hurt.

“For what could I possibly be thanking you?” Michael asks.

“The little playmate I gave you to room with.” Calum laughs, and Michael blushes a little.

“Ahh, see, I knew you’d like him!” Calum says as he takes note of the boys changing complexion.

“Firstly, no I don’t. And secondly, don’t be stupid.” Michael offers in what has to be the lamest denial of attraction that has ever happened.

“Oh you don’t?” Calum asks as he sits beside Michael, leaning over to dig for something in the small nook under the coffee table.

“No.” Michael offers.

Calum sits back up with a bottle in his hand and a smile on his face.

“Bet you were thinking about him when you finished.” Calum says, not letting his smile waiver in the slightest.

“Oh yeah…” Michael says mockingly. “What even makes you think I could. Kind of a buzz kill.”

“Because I’ve been your best friend for years, and I know you. Christ when we roomed together I caught you how many times?”

Why did Calum always have to be right? Why did he know Michael so well, it was actually infuriating.

“And every single time it was ‘oh, umm, uh, uh, I’m gunna go for a shower.’” Calum says in what is objectively a terrible impersonation. Michael was beyond blushing at this point. His face must have been pinker than his hair.

“No one showers for twenty-five minutes Michael!”

Michael at this point has had more than enough. He cocks his right hand and punches Calum square in the meat of the bicep, making him flinch and yelp, before he busts into laughter. Calum proceeds to pull Michael into a gentle headlock and tousle his hair.

“Love ya buddy. Congrats on the promotion.” Calum says, before kissing his forehead and letting him go.

“Ew, what the fuck!” Michael exclaims, smiling now.

“Want me to get some glasses?” Calum says as he hold up the bottle of liquor.

“Nah, waste of time.” Michael says as he grabs it from Calum’s grasp.

“Oh jeez, gunna be one of those nights eh?” Calum asks.

Michael doesn’t actually respond. He just waggles his eyebrows as he uncorks the bottle and puts it to his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genuinely curious for formatting purposes, are the people reading this on PC or Mobile? Is my formatting okay for you? :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a day late on this one guys.

The rest of the evening proceeded in a haze. In fact, the only thing Michael could vaguely recall was a heated debate with Calum over the state of water and whether or not it’s wet. For the record, it is and Calum is an idiot. The fact that he is one of the people responsible for the lives of others on this ship is a truly frightening thought.

Other than that, it was just bits a pieces which was the sure sign of a good night. Laughing about nonsense, arguing over less than nonsense, three or four bottles of whatever Calum had laying around. Definitely a good night.

Michael woke to Calum lazily kicking him in the thigh. Apparently they had both passed out on the couch.

“Go home. S’late.” Calum mumbled, eyes closed.

“You go home.” Michael managed back, as he threw his arm over his face.

Calum’s only response was to kick him again, this time with a little more fervor. Michael knew it was probably a good idea, this was not the most comfortable sleeping position after all. Although if Michael didn’t know better, he would swear Calum was just talking in his sleep. Unfortunately, that is one of Michael’s traits, not Calum's. He has divulged many a secret over the years while sleeping, another reason why he prefers a room to himself.

Michael lets out an exasperated exhale before standing up, and immediately falling back down onto the couch, provoking a disgruntled moan from Calum. Clearly Michael was still a little drunk, and this whole endeavor of making it back to his room was going to take some serious effort.

With his hands on either side of him, he gives the couch a firm shove and forces himself to his feet, standing there for a moment flailing his arms in an attempt to maintain balance. Probably not the most graceful way to do that, but given the circumstances it will have to suffice.

The room was dark, and Michael takes extra care not to trip over anything as he makes his way to the door. As the door opens light floods into the room, and Michael is sure that his corneas have melted right out of his skull. He straightens his shirt, and tries to comb his hair down in preparation for the arduous journey ahead.

“Left, right, left, right…” Michael mumbles to himself quietly, trying to keep focus as he makes his way down the hall. 

He’s already passed three people and all three felt it necessary to stare at him. Perhaps he wasn’t being casual enough. ‘Gotta be casual’ he thinks to himself. A greeting! That’s a perfect idea. People love acknowledgement and shit. As he turns another corner he sees a blue shirt coming in the opposite direction, the perfect opportunity to put his acting skills to the test.

She was looking at him too, but Michael had it all figured out. He was going to put her mind at ease, and she would be none the wiser. She would think he was sober enough to fly the ship, Michael was a genius! He went out of his way to pass by her in what only could be described as uncomfortable proximity.

“Hey Suzan.” He says in little more than a whisper as they pass.

Michael winces, partly because whispering is less casual and more creepy, and he has no idea why he just did that, but also because her name is Darlene. Probably best to go back to the original plan.

“Left, right, left, right…” Michael continues, not quite in perfect sync with his steps.

He makes it to his door, and upon opening is greeted with pitch black. Navigating his room in this state would probably be a little bit more of a chore than was Calum’s, given the fact that he couldn’t see anything as his eyes adjusted to the changing light. The doors close behind him and he lifts up his right leg with surprising balance to take off his shoe. That’s when Michael realizes he’s made the entire trip in sock feet. He supposes that would explain all the looks he was getting in the hall.

He thinks for a moment before remembering that he threw his shoes across the room at Calum’s with the bold exclamation that he hates shoes. He shrugs gently to himself and, strips off the rest of his clothes. His bed awaits him on the other side of the room, and he can think of nothing he wants more in this very moment than to cocoon inside the blankets and never move again.

Unfortunately for Michael, that would require picking himself up off the floor first. As he crossed the room, he tripped over a… a something, and fell to the ground with a thunderous crash. It probably wasn’t actually thunderous, in fact it was more of a dull thud. Michael had a flair for the dramatic.

“Fuck!” He screamed, long and drawn out.

Pain shot up and down the left side of his rib-cage, which bore the brunt of the impact. Michael’s had his fair share of bumps and bruises in the past, and he knew from experience that he would definitely feel it in the morning.

The jig was up at this point. No reason to continue this futile attempt at subtlety. Suddenly, the floor where he was laying seemed like a perfectly suitable place to sleep. He even had clothes to use as a pillow.

It took some convincing, but he managed to pick himself up off the ground and limp over to the bunks, favoring his side. He grabs onto the handrails on either side and lets out a long sigh. One last task, gotta make it up to the top.

He pulls with all his might, pushing off with his legs and makes it onto the bed. Unfortunately sleep had to elude Michael a little while longer, as he was greeted by a loud yelp and an uncomfortable form under him. That’s when he remembered he had a roommate this evening.

*****

It wasn’t the thud that woke Luke. He heard it, but barely, like it were part of his dream. What actually did it was the expletive screamed out from the other side of the room.

“Fuck!”

Luke’s eyes shot open and he sat up in a panic. It took him a moment to recognize his surroundings as he went through that moment of shock when you wake up in an unfamiliar setting. The room was dark, but he was still clothed. He must have fallen asleep going over those reports. Sure enough he felt around and the Padd was laying next to him.

His attention then turned to the direction of the scream which woke him. His initial instinct was to hop out of the bed and make sure Michael, or who he assumed was Michael was okay. What else are doctors for after all. 

His secondary instinct was to stay hidden in the bed and deal with any sort of social situation at a later date. Or never, that would also be acceptable. He opted for the second when he heard grumblings and mumbled swears coming from the floor. 

Whoever it was, they were probably alright. Then again, he wouldn’t want to seem indelicate. Probably best to pretend to be sleeping, Luke thinks to himself. He pulls the blankets over his head, trying to make as little noise as possible.

After a moment or two, the commotion coming from below seems to calm down, and Luke lets the tension fall out of his muscles. He lets out a breath he’s been holding in, and allows his eyes to fall shut once again.

That’s when Luke gets the feeling in the pit of his stomach that there is someone seriously close to him. That ‘fight or flight response’ you get when you think there’s something right behind you. He opens his eyes, but realizes what’s happening all too late.

“Ahh!” Luke cries out as the full weight of another human being crashes down on top of him.

There is a brief scuffle as the two forms try to untangle themselves, both from each other, as well as the blankets.

“Computer, lights!” Luke calls out.

Standing before him was Michael, stark naked for the second time that day. Luke flushes at the sight, and Michael visibly recoils as the lights turn on. Luke actually believed Michael might lose his balance and fall over, as the light assaulted his senses.

“Jesus! Computer turn off the fucking lights!” Michael exclaims, eyes sealed shut and hands out in front of him.

Luke has no idea what to say at this point. What do you say to a person you’ve accidentally seen naked twice on the same day? 

“You scared the shit out of me!” Michael says breathlessly.

“I-- Sorry.” Is all Luke can manage.

“Why the fuck are you in my bed?” Michael asks, his tone turning accusatory.

“I-- I-- What?” Luke stammers, as Michael stands shamelessly in his indecency.

“Why are you in my bed?” Michael restates, emphasizing each syllable.

“I-- I didn’t know…” Luke answers timidly, before being cut off

“S’your name again?” Michael slurs out, this time less accusatory, and more annoyed. It was that sentence that confirmed for Luke that Michael was reasonably intoxicated.

“Luke…” Luke says expecting some kind of follow up. There was none.

“Hemmings.” He adds, thinking maybe Michael forgot it was his turn to speak.

“Alright Hemmo, get out of my bed.” Michael says, calm this time. Clearly this has been a roller coaster of emotions for him. Luke is just happy that ‘calm’ is where he seems to have landed.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Luke says quickly grabbing his Padd and activating it for some light as he climbs down from the top bunk.

His feet touch the floor and Luke startles as he looks up. He’s face to face with Michael, who based on the spent look on his face is actually more than reasonably inebriated. It takes everything in Luke’s power to keep his eyes forward, because if he was honest with himself, Michael was very attractive. He was also very naked, and curiosity is in human nature.

Michael climbs up, and Luke averts his eyes. He’s not entirely sure how cognizant Michael is of his current level of exposure, but Luke figures it’s probably best not to press the issue. Luke follows suit and hops into the bottom bunk.

After a few minutes of silence, Luke can’t take it anymore, and he needs the answer to at least one question before he goes to bed.

“Michael?” Luke calls out gently, testing to see if his new bunk-mate is asleep.

“Hmm?” Michael hums in response.

“Can I ask you something?” Luke asks, slightly nervous that further conversation might set Michael’s emotional wheel spinning again.

“Hmm.” Michael hums again, a slight chuckle in his voice

“Why do you sleep in the top bunk?” It was a valid question. What kind of psychopath would chose to sleep in the top bunk when the bottom is available?

“Bottom one’s Calum’s.” Michael says, with such a slur that it’s almost unintelligible.

“Huh?” Luke asks again, not satisfied with the answer.

Luke already knows that Calum has his own room, so why would he have a bed on reserve in Michael’s room? Unfortunately for Luke, it didn’t seem like he was going to get an answer this evening, as Michael’s only response is a gentle snore.

By this point Luke had resigned himself to not getting much sleep for the rest of the evening. He decides to focus on the image in his head of Michael, as opposed to his anxiety regarding their next conversation. Granted, the images in his head were a little blurry, given that the two times he’s seen Michael naked it was only for an instant, and in less than ideal lighting conditions. Still, his imagination was enough to fill in the gaps and at the very least, the image of a cute naked boy is always a positive takeaway.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day early! :)

Michael woke with drool on his face, and a thumping in his head which could challenge a Klingon war drum. He figured to himself that he must be dead, and this was hell. He was finally being punished for the transgressions of his life. His muscles ached and his stomach churned. He tried to open his eyes, but was met only by bright blurry outlines spinning around him at breakneck speed. The hinges of his jaw started to tingle, and Michael started to panic. He knew what would happen next, and he knew it was unavoidable.

He rolled over onto his left side as fast as he could, frantically reaching for the edge of his bunk and craning his head over. With one rough heave, the contents of Michael’s stomach emptied onto the floor below. There was no better feeling in the world than the relief which follows puking when you’re hungover. He rolled onto his back and let out a satisfied sigh, as he let his muscles sink back into the bed.

“What the fuck!” Luke screamed from below, equal parts startled and disgusted.

Michael had once again forgotten he had company last night, although even if he had remembered, the situation probably still would have unfolded exactly as it had. After all, what was he supposed to do? It was kind of a ‘right now’ sort of bodily function.

Luke carefully found some footing on the floor, avoiding the mess. Luke was already awake, he was reading over a few things before heading down to sick bay for his first duty shift. He placed a foot on his bunk, and stepped up to peer into Michael’s.

Michael was a mess, drenched in sweat and breathing shallow.

“Jesus, how much did you drink?” Luke asks gently.

Michael mumbles something unintelligible, and Luke hops down. He has to dig through his bag for a minute before he finds his medical tricorder. Stepping back up he takes a quick scan of Michael to make sure there is nothing seriously wrong. Sure enough, there is not. Michael starts smacking his lips, mouth pasty and dry.

Luke probably didn’t have to help, but he couldn’t help himself. He tiptoes over to the replicator on the wall, careful to avoid the vomit.

“Water, room temperature.” He says with a hand on the panel.

The glass materializes, and Luke takes it with him to the bathroom. He reemerges a moment later with a wet face cloth draped over his forearm, and once more steps up onto his bunk.

“Here.” Luke says in his best doctor voice.

Michael just groans and rolls over, his back now facing Luke. When it came to medical care, Luke was always pretty good at fighting back against his social anxiety. He’s been in situations where patients don’t want to take his advice, or other doctors don’t agree with his prognosis, but he’s never been afraid to stand his ground.

Luke reaches out and pours a bit of water onto the sleeping boy’s messy hair, causing Michael to sit straight up.

“Fuck off!” Michael says sternly and with purpose.

“Drink this.” Luke replies, unphased.

Michael glares at Luke for a minute, but takes the glass and downs it in one gulp. Luke throws the wet cloth into Michael’s bare chest.

“Wipe your face, and get some more sleep before your duty shift.” Luke says, hopping down from the bunk and gathering a few more things from his bag.

“Duty shift? You’re not gunna clear me for the day off?” Michael asks, blinking and dumbfounded.

Luke pauses for a minute before answering.

“No? Why would I do that?” Luke asks, curious.

Michael looks down at the mess on the floor and then back up at Luke.

“I’m sick!” Michael exclaims.

“No you’re not, you’re hungover.” Luke says before adding “Actually, according to my tricorder, you’re still a little drunk. So… ya know. Sleep it off.”

Everyone wants a day off from the doctor, and Luke was always unsympathetic to party goers who partied too hard. Maybe it was jealousy because they always seemed to be having more fun at the parties than he did.

Michael was stunned. He could not believe that this asshole was actually going to make him go in for his shift.

“C’mon Hemmo, please? I’m really sick!” Michael pleads, a pathetic last ditch effort.

“Hemmings.” Luke responds before letting out a dejected sigh, and stepping back up onto the bed. He places his hand on Michael's forehead, and makes a couple thinking faces before stepping down.

“Oh wow, you really are sick.” Luke says grabbing his comm badge and pinning it on his shirt.

“Really?” Michael asks, shocked.

“No, not really.” Luke deadpans. 

“Enjoy your shift.” Luke calls out as he exits the room.

Michael throws a pillow across the room at the closing door.

“Dick!”

Michael flops back down off of his forearms which had been supporting him in a semi-sitting up position. As he wiped his face with the cloth Luke had given him, he tried to piece together what happened last night. He didn’t even remember coming home from Calum’s.

He also didn’t remember the doctor being that attractive. Like, the boy was frustratingly hot. His blonde hair, his slim figure, his lip ring, all of it. Thankfully he was going to be out of Michael’s room soon, because that’s the sort of temptation he doesn’t need in his life. God knows he’s weak.

Although, maybe he could make an exception. After all, the doctor is much closer to him in age than most other people who out rank him. Either that, or he’s like forty-five and just aged super well. He drifts back and forth in lucid thought between how hot Luke is and how else he might be able to get out of his shift, before the effort required to even think becomes too demanding, and he drifts back into a dead sleep.

*****

Luke had a problem. He’s known ever since he had the conversation with Captain Irwin yesterday. He knew that his family’s operation on Tau Ceti wouldn’t be up to code. None of them were. That was another reason he didn’t want to go into the family business, although it wasn’t one he talked about.

He was a little ashamed that his father and brothers were willing to put profit over the welfare of other people. Luke had always adopted the philosophy that if he couldn’t see it, it wouldn’t bother him. But now he was going to see it. He was going to be smack dab in the middle of it, and he was going to have to choose between loyalty to his family, and loyalty to Starfleet.

Not only that, but there was also the matter of loyalty to himself. He was a doctor, that was the choice he made. He wanted to help people, and what kind of a doctor would he be if he let those mines continue to run the way that they were set up.

Luke remembered visiting some of them as a kid. Taking tours of ‘the empire that would be his one day’. They smelled. There was little ventilation, and sanitary conditions were even worse. The miners lived in the mines, using hollowed out caverns as makeshift barracks as they burrowed further into the world’s crust, searching for precious minerals and ore.

What’s worse is, the walls of the mines were barely reinforced to prevent collapse. Rather than put aside some of the more durable materials which were mined, like duranium, Luke’s father decided that the value of the metal needed to reinforce the mine was greater than the value of the lives inside. And so rather than sacrifice profits, he instead decided to order and import nillimite or the like to do the job.

The workers were destitute locals from nearby systems. They would sign up thinking that they had a chance to escape from their impoverished home worlds. Often times these worlds didn’t even have the means to exploit the resources of the nearby uninhabited planets. They were the kind of places that were just discovering warp travel, and most don’t even realize what they are signing away the rights to when Hemmings Inc. came knocking.

The first mine collapse Luke can remember was when he was twelve. Not that he recalls any actual details, just that it happened. Fourteen was the big one. He, his father, and his brother Ben were all on Alpha Carinae II when their mine on the southern continent collapsed. It took less than twenty minutes for an angry mob to assemble outside the estate his father had rented.

It only took them an hour to break through the outer gates, and the nearest ship that could beam them out was another hour away. Luke and his family were able to barricade themselves in the bedroom upstairs until help arrived, but they wouldn’t have been able to hold out much longer. Luke didn’t fully understand everything that happened that day. He pieced it together over time, reading reports and hearing stories.

By the time he was sixteen his brothers started teaching him the ‘tricks of the trade’. And by the time he was seventeen he decided he wanted nothing to do with it. That’s when he convinced his mother to let him ‘find himself’ on Bajor. It was a bullshit made-up excuse. He wasn’t struggling with himself internally, he just needed time away to figure out what he wanted to do with his life.

The decision to join Starfleet wasn’t a popular one amongst Luke’s family. Starfleet was a thorn in their side. Regulations and red tape stood in the way of efficiency. Luke justified it by convincing his father that it wasn’t about Starfleet, it was about helping people. And no one would argue that, Starfleet definitely had more resources at their disposal than anyone else.

Thankfully up to this point Luke had never really faced a conflict of interests when it came to his family and his work. That was all about to change, and Luke had no idea what he was going to do. He had spent the better part of the afternoon at his desk thinking about it. His staff was really friendly, while at the same time giving him his space. Luke got the sense that they were doing that whole ‘feeling out process’ that everyone goes through when they get a new boss.

He was lost in thought when a voice startled him and made him fumble the padd in his hand.

“Hey Hemmo!” Calum said as he entered with a smile.

“Oh, good, glad that’s catching on.” Luke said sarcastically while he composed himself.

“Yeah swung by engineering today, Mikey doesn’t look so good.” Calum offered.

“Can’t be worse than he was this morning.” Luke replied.

“I can believe that.” Calum said as he chuckled.

“He’s always been a bit of a light weight. How’s your first day going?” Calum added.

“Yeah, really well. No one sick or hurt so that’s always a plus. Makes my job pretty easy. And everyone has been really welcoming.” Luke answered genuinely. Having a disgruntled staff would be one too many things on his plate.

“That’s awesome. I had to threaten some people to make sure they behave, but if it works it works!” Calum jokes.

Luke chuckles and turns his attention back to the computer in front of him, already getting used to Calum’s sense of humor.

“Michael and myself are going to be spending some time in the Holodeck tonight, you want to join?” Calum asks, and Luke turns to face him.

“Oh, umm, that’s okay. I don’t want to intrude.” Luke answers shyly.

“On what? We’re just hanging out.” Calum replies in what Luke surmises is his confidence inspiring voice.

“I-- I dunno, I just kinda have the feeling that Michael doesn’t like me.” Luke says, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh my God, are you two in highschool? You two deserve eachother.” Calum says while giving Luke a look.

“Michael is a moody bitch, and he’ll get over it. You are going to not care about what he thinks. And in the end, we’re all going to be friends.” Calum explains, not giving Luke a chance to interject.

“Holodeck, nineteen-hundred, that’s an order.” Calum states with finality as he turns to leave.

Apparently the decision had been made. Luke could use the distraction, but couldn’t really afford it. He had too much on his mind. Still, at this point he didn’t really have a choice.


	8. Chapter 8

There was no way Luke could have ever mentally prepared himself for the setting Commander Hood and Lieutenant Clifford had chosen. He expected some sort of sporting event of old, or perhaps a scene from a novel acted out by holograms in expert fashion.

As the doors open, Luke was caught off guard by the array of flashing neon lights, and loud music. It was a club, and not a nice looking one. It was not unlike Draymor’s actually. With the exception of the multicoloured lights shining down from above, the venue was actually quite dark. It smelled of spilled synthohol and must, and for all the tables in the place, the only two patrons were Calum and Michael, sitting at the front of the room fixated on whatever show had been programmed in for the evening.

Luke’s eyes went wide when he finally noticed what the choice of entertainment was. Clad in naught but an electric blue pair of undergarments, a woman; upside down on a pole located in the center of the stage, supporting the entirety of her weight with one leg wrapped around the pole. It would be an impressive feat of athleticism if Luke wasn’t positive she was a hologram.

Calum had a wide grin on his face but Michael was slouched in his chair, apparently unimpressed. The music was thumping and building to a crescendo. Luke had half a mind to turn around right then and leave. He wasn’t really uncomfortable with the situation, but he knew most people would be. At what point would this whole experience be considered inappropriate by a normal person’s standpoint? On the other hand, Luke didn’t want to seem like a prude and Calum was nice enough to invite him out to… Whatever this was.

As Luke weighed his options, the dancer on stage finished her routine in grand fashion with her legs spread on either side of her as she sat on the stage, one arm in the air. Luke couldn’t help but question the sanitary condition of the stage she was exposing an abundance of herself to.

Luke had to stop himself from audibly yelping as all the lights shut off. The room was pitch black, and he couldn’t see even a foot in front of him. Luke figured the ship was about to enter yellow alert, probably some kind of power failure. A series of voices sung in harmony came through the sound system, and that’s when Luke realized it was all a part of the show.

“I want it all!”

The voices were authoritative, and yet angelic. Luke had never heard music like this before.

“I want it all!”

The lights came up, and there stood a shirtless boy. Blonde and tan, shimmering in the light, he held a bottle of water in his right hand and was looking up at the sky.

“I want it all!”

The boy opened the bottle and poured it over himself, drenching his hair and making it stick to his forehead. The water spilled onto his chest and down his abdomen, finally stopping at the waistband of his pants. They were loose fitting and green, with a white and black stripe down either side. The boy’s aesthetic was actually not unlike Luke’s, and Luke might be jealous of how effortlessly confident and flawless he seemed, if it weren’t for the fact that he was a hologram.

“And I want it now!”

The music kicked in behind the vocals, loud and aggressive. Luke wasn’t exactly sure what instruments were being played, but it sounded old. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the dancer shook the water from his hair, and in one smooth motion, ripped his pants off his body. His lower half was just as pristine as the top, and as he stood there barefoot, bare chested and wet, he locked eyes with Luke across the room, causing Luke to swallow hard.

Calum and Michael turned to face him once they realized someone else had the attention of the hologram.

“Luke! Come have a seat, I saved you one!” Calum was practically shouting because of the volume of the music.

Michael didn’t really acknowledge Luke, instead turning his attention back to the stage. Luke made his way slowly and carefully through the maze of tables and chairs toward the front of the room. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation, but he wasn’t entirely uncomfortable either. In fact this is the kind of evening he could see his friends organizing back at the academy. His only trepidation came stemmed from the fact that he had known Calum and Michael less than three days, and this was a little bit of a visceral experience to be sharing with acquaintances.

He took a seat on Calum’s right side, and noticed there was already a beverage there for him.

“You like Bajoran ale?” Calum asked smiling. Thankfully, Luke did. It’s an acquired taste, but he had spent enough time on Bajor to have acquired it.

“I--” Luke went to respond, but was cut off.

“Well you do tonight.” Calum laughed and leaned back in his chair.

Luke looked up at the stage, and the dancer was right above him, looking down with steely blue eyes.

“This is Mitchell, he’s Mikey’s favourite.” Calum says, and nudges Michael in the ribs with his elbow, earning a grunt and a glare.

“Oh, uh, hi.” Luke says as he sits up. He wasn’t really sure of the protocol. Are you supposed to greet a holographic stripper?

His question is answered as the dancer puts his foot against Luke’s chest and firmly pushes him back into his chair. Luke is taken aback for an instant, before he laughs and grabs a hold of his drink. He couldn’t help but smile as the bottle touched his lips.

The dancer made his way to Calum sitting between the two lower ranking officers. He got down on his hands and knees, crawling face to face with Calum, not saying a word.

“Mitchell you put a hand on me, and I swear to god I’ll erase your program forever!” Calum spat with a smile.

Mitchell smiled a devilish smile, and reached out to cup Calums cheek, but stopped just short. Instead, he removed the bottle of ale from Calum’s hand and stood back up, striking a pose in time with the music. He pivoted on one foot, and made his way to Michael.

Michael sat back as the holographic figure stood over him. He stuck his leg out and began to gently trace circles on Michael’s chest.

Michael had not said a word up to this point, in fact he hadn’t really done much of anything. Just sat there quietly. But now he looked enamoured, like nothing would be able to peel him away from what was happening right in front of him.

The hologram slowly worked his foot upward, until his toes were resting on Michael’s chin. Michael opened his mouth and gently stuck his tongue out, so it was resting on his bottom lip. Mitchell’s foot found its way to Michael’s mouth, and with a smile he took Calum’s ale and poured it on his upper thigh.

The foamy liquid ran down his leg, and into Michael’s mouth, spilling everywhere and making a mess along the way.

Luke watched in awe, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Calum laughed, and it brought yet another smile to Luke’s face. Maybe this was going to be a fun night after all.

Calum looked over his shoulder at Luke.

“Alright, you get next choice. Who’s dancing next? Nicholas, or Danielle?” Calum asked and caught Luke off guard.

“Uhmm, Nicholas?” Luke asked more than stated.

“Ah fuck, I’m outnumbered!” Calum shouted.

Michael just looked over and smiled.

*****

Ashton sat alone in his ready room, burning the candle at both ends as he tended to do. What Starfleet Captain stops working at the end of their duty shift after all. He was preparing for their inspection of the Hemming’s facility on Tau Ceti tomorrow, and there was a lot riding on it.

Normally an inspection like this was nothing out of the ordinary, but in this case the outcome could have some serious ramifications for his new CMO. Ashton had a policy of not assigning anyone to senior staff unless he knew he could trust them, and with the exception of Lieutenant Clifford, he had been able to adhere to that policy. The Clifford situation didn’t bother him so much because Calum had vouched for him, and that’s not something Calum had ever done before.

Hemmings was a different story. A ship can’t very well run without a doctor in the farthest reaches of space, and so Ashton’s hand was forced to pick someone from Starfleet’s available pool of candidates.

In a way, this inspection was a good thing. It would serve as a vetting process for the new doctor. Starfleet cadets went through vigorous psychological screening, and tests which were designed to ensure that everyone knew the mission came first. Still, Ashton felt comfortable with his own methods, however redundant they may be.

Ashton heard his comm badge beep twice before a gruff voice on the other end spoke.

“Captain Irwin, incoming message from Starfleet Command, priority one.” The voice was stern and to the point.

“In my ready room.” The Captain responded before turning his attention to the computer screen in front of him.

“Admiral Leier, it’s been far too long.” Ashton said with a smile.

“Ashton, it’s good to see you. How are things.” The Admiral responded.

“As well as can be expected, our schedule has been pretty tight the past few weeks. But it’s better to be busy.” Ashton offered, holding up a padd listing out their upcoming missions and assignments.

“Well that’s good. Listen, I’m going to need you to change course.” The Admiral said, changing his tone.

“Change course?” Ashton said, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re needed at Deep Space Nine, to assist with the Maquis problem in the Badlands.”

“I don’t understand, we’re due at Tau Ceti IV for an inspection of --” Ashton explained, before he was cut off.

“Captain, an arrangement has been made. It’s out of your hands. Hell, it’s out of my hands. You are redirecting to Deep Space Nine, understood?” The Admiral offered, with no wiggle room.

“Understood Admiral.” Ashton stated, clearly unhappy with the situation.

“Good, Captain Sisko will brief you on the situation when you arrive. Leier out.” The Admiral said as the screen went black.

Ashton slumped back in his chair. He didn’t understand. How could Jack Hemmings even have known he was coming. Unless someone already told him.

The realization dawned on Ashton like a tidal wave. It had to have been Luke. After sitting in contemplation for a moment, he realized he would need to talk this out with someone. He tapped his combadge twice.

“Commander Hood, please report to my ready room at your convenience.” Ashton said through almost gritted teeth.

“Right away sir.” Calum responded almost immediately.

Ashton could not believe what a slap in the face this was. Did his new doctor think that he was stupid? And worse yet, did his new doctor think that he and his family were above the rules? The only thing he knew at this point was, something didn’t quite sit well with him as far as how this was all playing out, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he got an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think =D


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